Tell Me When It's Time To Say 'I Love You'
by MrsArmstrong123
Summary: Sequel to Dry Ice. Ann and Billie Joe meet after a long 14 years.
1. Coincidences happen

_**As our paths cross once again.**_

_**I.**_

_June 23rd 2004_

We were walking down the promenade when Bailey pulled my hand. "Mommy, mommy, look!" Her little blue eyes sparkled, like every time she got excited. "What is it, sweetie?" She led me by the hand, close to some man. "Mommy, this is the man from the picture on Times Square." I smiled at her. She's probably confused the man with someone. And there were so many pictures on Times Square that it was impossible to know which one she was talking about. Before I could stop her, she pulled the man's sleeve and he turned around. I began to apologize. "Excuse me, sir, my daughter thought…"

Then I noticed the man's face. The flashback lasted a couple of seconds. I blinked a few times to see if my memory wasn't deceiving. I was so surprised I couldn't say much. "_Billie Joe_?" He stared at me with green eyes I could swear I knew. He was obviously surprised. "Woah. Ann? _Annie_?" I wasn't wrong. It's been 14 years now. Wow. I slid one hand around his neck, which lead to a weird hug. The usual ceremony of meeting old friends, I guess. When I recognized the weirdness, I stepped away again. "Oh my God. Wow. I'm pretty much speechless right now." Bailey was getting nervous beside me. "Mom?" Billie Joe now stared at me with his mouth open. I noticed and smiled at him. "It's a long story." He nodded. "Hey, um, you wanna get a cup of coffee or something?" Oh yeah, part of the old-friend-ceremony. A drink, catching up and so on. "Okay, sure. I just need to drop Bailey off at her dad's." He was surprised once again. "I'll explain later. That little café across the street, in an hour or so?"

"Sure. See 'ya." I waved to him, then Bailey and I walked out of the centre. "Mommy, was that your friend?" I guess that's one way to say it. "Yes, honey. That was Billie Joe. We went to high school together. I haven't seen him in a very long time." The little girl smiled brightly. "Billie Joe? That's a nice name. He has pretty eyes, too." That was true. His eyes haven't changed one bit, even if he's a whole different person now. "Yes, he does, doesn't he?" We got a cab and drove down to Wright Street 124. New York was way too big for me. I rang the bell at the house, Bailey was jumping up and down – she was always excited when she came to her dad's. The door opened. "Hey, princess." Bailey jumped around Ben's neck. "Daddy!" He was happy, almost relieved to see her. "Hi, Annie. Coming in?" I shook my head. "Nah, not today. I have somewhere to go. I ran into someone from high school today." He smiled. "Wow. How's Katie been?" He thought I met Katelyn. "Um, no, actually I'm meeting…" Bailey jumped up in Ben's arms. "His name is Billie Joe, daddy! His eyes are really _green_!" The smile on Ben's face disappeared in less than a second. "_Him_?" You're going to see _Armstrong_?" His voice was full of anger that he tried to hide. "That was _high school_, Ben. Things're more than just different now. And besides, we're not married anymore, remember?" Bad joke. Now he was in his sorry mood again. I quickly finished the conversation. "Anyways, it doesn't matter. Bailey needs to be in bed by eight thirty, like always. Have fun." Bailey made grabby hands at me. "Bye, mommy!" I waved at her and got back in the taxi. I drove off to the little café next to the shopping centre. Billie Joe was already there, sitting by the table in the corner. He stood up when I came over. "So, should I shake your hand or something?" I smiled, because I was wondering the same. "I guess that's what everyone else does." He paused for a second. "But we never were 'everyone else,' were we?" He stepped behind me and moved my chair, so I could sit. I was honestly surprised.

We sat down and ordered a drink. "So, you probably have more experience with this than I do – what do people do at these… Meetings?" I smiled at the awkwardness of the situation. "I don't know, catch up, I guess?" He shrugged. "Okay then, let's _catch up_. What've you been up to for the last… Fourteen years?" I laughed again. This was entertaining. "Um, well, after high school I went to Berkeley, but never finished there. Got a few little jobs, got married, had a kid and got divorced. That's all the important stuff, I guess." He was staring at me. What I told him obviously caught him off guard. "I doubt I could beat your exciting one-sentence biography, but here it goes. The band, the band and the band. Six albums, the 7th's on the way. No big deal, but we still love doing it. Between that I still managed to get married and divorced. No kids or anything. That'd be it." Green Day – right now they were doing better than ever. From Saturday night gigs at Rod's to Grammys and millions of albums sold. "It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right…" He blushed. I guess he thought I didn't know any of their music. "You like the song?" It seemed like he didn't believe it. "I'd call it one of my many favorites." The red on his cheeks stood out more and more. "Armstrong, since when do you blush?" He grinned, looking me in the eyes. I almost missed him doing that. "It's weird – people hearing our music on the radio and _liking _it. I never thought that would happen." He was as happy as I remember when he talked about the band. "I admire you, y'know." He coughed, almost chocked and stared at me. "_You_ admire _me_? Sorry, but – _What the fuck_?" I had to laugh at his honest shock. "I do. I mean, you're so sure about your future. You know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life and you're already doing it. It seems like you've got it all."

"See, that's where you're wrong. I have no kids, I'm divorced and I'm 32. I'm not even close to having everything." I noticed sadness in his voice. "There's plenty of time to fix that, Beej." When I thought about what I said, I noticed using the nickname I used to like, all those years ago. He must have noticed too. A spark lid up in his eyes.


	2. Better than being high

_**Wishing for a day that never ends.**_

_**I**__**I.**_

"I missed that." I felt heat on my face and looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice. I pretended not to know what he was talking about. "Missed what?" He laughed quietly. "You calling me that. Well, and making you blush." Oh damn, he noticed. "Oh, _please_. You couldn't make me blush if you _tried_." He giggled again, taking a sip of his drink. "I may be dumb, but I'm not blind, Annie. But I'll let you live in denial if it makes you feel better." I needed to change the subject. "Beej? When did you get married?" Oh, there was the name again. It was in my head and I couldn't get it out. This time he only smiled. He took a deep breath, then answered. "Back in '94. Then it all went to hell about two years ago. Her name was Adrienne. Me and the guys – we've been working really hard on this new album and I guess our relationship couldn't take the pressure. The last year was hell. But we're friends. Kind of. How 'bout you?" Well, I should've seen than one coming. "In 1992. I was way too young, I know. We broke up 3 years ago. But I could see it coming the day we got hitched. Ben and I… We just didn't have that _thing_, y'know. Aside from our daughter, she's an angel." His expression was filled with shock. "Ben? You mean the one from high school? Woah. You ended up _marrying_ that guy?"

_**Billie Joe's Point of View**_

_If I wouldn't have been such an idiot, I could've been the one she married_, I thought, but shook those thoughts away. People don't think about… Old friends that way. "Yeah, I did. When he got the damn divorce papers he said, that he always knew he was someone I settled for, that I always saw him as 'second best.' Can you believe that? I should've kicked his ass that day."

"Was he right?" My curiosity beat sanity once again. She's probably gonna think I'm a rude son of a bitch. "I… I don't know. Maybe. I don't know." I was surprised and relieved that she didn't freak out about my question. But she was obviously confused, unsure. "Okay – I can take a hint. We don't have to talk about that anymore." She smiled at me in relief. It didn't seem like fourteen years have passed. She was still the same person, just with a few extra pages in the book. Her eyes were still the exact same as I remembered. Her hair still looked as soft as silk, and I bet it felt that way too. Her smile was still brighter than the morning sun. I still knew her limits better than my own. This is definitely not how I pictured meeting her. I thought she'd hate me forever. But things are okay. At least it feels that way. And that's all that matters to me. "Hey, listen, Mike and Tre are gonna kill me if I don't make sure they get to see you too. We're crashing at a hotel not too far away from here. Wanna come?" She was in doubt. "You sure they wanna see me?" I nodded, completely sure about the answer. "You kidding? They wouldn't get off my back for months after your graduation day and… y'know." She smiled weakly, but I could see something in her eyes. The memory – it burned as if it was yesterday.

After that day, I didn't want to think about it for months. It was impossible to live with myself and what I did. I wanted to go see her countless times, but didn't have the balls to actually do it. Bits and pieces of lyrics went through my head those days, but nothing was good enough to make a song about what I felt. There were no words for the emptiness inside me that I alone created. I'm probably never going to be able to imagine how _she_ felt. The memory is a scar that stays forever, as a reminder of the pain she once went through, all those years ago. I mentally kicked myself for being so damn poetic. "Beej? What is it?" She noticed my distance of thought. "Annie, I… This could be the last chance I get to say I'm sorry. If I don't get this out now, I might have to wait another 14 years, or forever. That's all I've got to say – I'm sorry." Her eyes then had a different shade of green. Brighter, darker, who cares – they were beautiful as ever. And then the words of salvation. "It's okay, Beej. That was high school. This is now." She'd forgive me? Just like that? "No. No, it's not fucking okay, Annie. Say it and mean it, or don't say it at all." She gave me an angry glare. "What makes you think I don't mean it?" I returned the glare. "I know you." She sighed. "Oh, fuck, Billie Joe, let's just go see Mike and Tre before you make me give you a goddamn black eye, okay?"

I shrugged and we left. Took a cab and drove off to the hotel. Almost had an argument about eighteen times before we got to our room. By the time we got to the door, we were both laughing. This is better than being high. I opened the door for her and she stepped inside, me right behind her. "Hey shitheads, turn the porn off for a sec and get over here!" She laughed at my language. "You're still pretty damn nice with your friends, Armstrong," she said sarcastically. Mike showed up in the hallway a moment later.

"Oh, fuck." That was all he could say and all he could do was stare. Who could blame him? "Nice to see you too, Mike," she replied, smiling. After a few more swears from Mike, he stepped closer, hugged her, lifted her up and spinned her around. I was shocked by how happy he was to see her. Mike wasn't usually the one to be overwhelmed with emotions – at least with people he hadn't seen in fourteen years. But, again, who could blame him, after what he just saw?

Then Tre showed up. "Oh, hi, Annie," he greeted in a normal voice. As if he was expecting to see her. As if it hasn't been so long. "Hi, Tre. Nice hair," she answered in the same tone. Tre grinned. Whenever someone pointed out his hair, he got extra happy. His hair was quite tall and he was proud of it.

As we stood there, I wondered – what happens next?


	3. All that's supposed to be

_**It seems like **__**yesterday**__**. **_

_**III.**_

"So, how'd you two run in to each other?" We were all sitting on the couch; I was next to her, our arms were nearly touching, when Mike asked. "My daughter saw your picture on Times Square. She recognized Billie Joe." Mike's eyes widened. "You married?" She shook her head and a bit of her hair touched my face. It was just as soft as I thought. Her scent possessed me for a moment. "Happily divorced, actually." Tre looked at me and smiled. She didn't notice, thank god. I rolled my eyes at Tre and looked away. "So, I heard you guys are working on an album. Can't wait to see how much ass it kicks." All three of us grinned. We all put our hopes in the record. And we've worked on it harder than all the ones before combined. "Billie, maybe you should show Ann some recordings or something," Tre said to me, winking. I rolled my eyes again. Did they really think I was just going to throw myself in the game? "Sure, if you wanna hear 'em, Annie." She smiled. My head spinned just a little every time she did. _Damn, I really need to stop thinking about…_

"I don't wanna cheat. It hasn't been released yet." "But we're giving you _permission_ to cheat. So it's not technically cheating," Mike quickly assured. "Guys, it's okay. Maybe another day. If you're not planning to run away for a decade anytime soon," I said, looking at her. She shook her head. "I'm in New York for a month or so. Then I'm heading back to Chicago." "Chicago, huh? Did California get too small for you?" She half-smiled. "California's still my home at heart. Who knows, maybe I'll get back some day." A thought crossed my mind. "Hey, 'ya wanna come see us play? We've got a show in some club tomorrow night." She looked right in my eyes, smiling brightly. That awoke so many memories. Why the hell was I feeling like a little kid in a candy store right now? "I'd love to. I wanna see if you can still kick ass on stage like you used to." Tre giggled. Mike stood up and we all looked at him. "Billie, can I talk to you for a sec?" I was confused, but I nodded and stood up too. "Sure." We walked to the kitchen. I could hear Tre and Annie talking and laughing.

"Billie Joe, what's going on?" I stared at the smile on his face. "What're you talking about?" He laughed quietly. "In there. You and Annie." I looked away. "What about her? She's an old friend. I haven't seen her in fourteen fucking years, god fucking damnit. And you and Tre've been giving me these little looks and winks since she stepped through the door. Jesus fucking Christ, Mike," I rushed to explain. The smile still didn't leave his face. "I haven't seen you look at anyone like that since Adie." I glared at him. "Fuck off," I muttered and walked back to the living room. When Tre saw the look on my face his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Woah. Someone's pissed," he commented in an irritating voice. "Shut the fuck up, Tre," I snapped. She got up quickly. "I should go." Oh, fuck. "You don't have to," I tried to stop her. "It's okay. I'll see you guys tomorrow night," she smiled at the idiots sitting on the couch, then at me. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started scribbling in my impossible handwriting. "Here's the address of the place we're playing at," I said, giving her the paper. She took the pen from my hand, grabbed another piece of paper and wrote something down. Then she handed it to me. "And here's my address and phone number, in case something comes up." The guys cracked in laughter. I glared their way. Dumbasses. "I'll get you a cab," I said to her and we took the elevator down in silence. Once we got outside, I got her a cab and she opened the door to sit in. "So, see 'ya tomorrow?" I asked before she got in. "Sure," she answered, again with a smile on her face. The next thing I know, she hugged me. And I hugged her back. I felt light-headed. When she pulled away, I still needed a few seconds to remember my name. "See 'ya." And then she sat in the cab and drove away.

_Wow_. Oh, but fuck wow. Old friends do that. They're supposed to do that.

Right?


	4. When you think nothing can go wrong

_**The past can tie you down.**_

_**IV.**_

_Ann's Point of View_

I was just heading out, opened the door and saw Ben on the doorstep. "Oh, Ben. Um, hi… Something wrong? Where's Bailey? Is she okay?" I was halfway to panic mode when the expression on his face shut me up. I could tell he was drunk. I waited for him to say something. Instead, he looked at me from head to toes. I was dressed for the show and despite the alcohol, he noticed.

"You're going to see _him_," he said more to himself than to me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was angry. "Well, yeah, I am. Don't get all pissed, Ben, because it's none of your business. I'm not your wife anymore." The next second, he had me pushed against a wall, his hands at my neck, pressing too tightly, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I never could when he got like this. "Now you listen to me, 'ya slut. You're not goin' _anywhere, _especially not with _that_ bastard…" Tears were flooding my face and his grip loosened just a bit, enough for me to speak, but I couldn't. I tried to push him away, but I wasn't strong enough. When he noticed my attempts, he tightened his grip on my neck and I could barely breathe. "So you think you're tough, huh? 'Ya think you could fight me off? C'mon, _try._ Gimme your best shot, bitch." He put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't make a sound. As if I could anyway. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut me a few times. Only then I screamed, but even I could hardly hear myself because of his hand. I was helpless. He must've hit me a few more times, but the last thing I remember was landing on broken glass.

I woke up on the floor, with a very blurry memory of it all. At first I felt nothing. I tried to get up, but in the same second I landed back on the ground with teary eyes. A sharp strike of pain went through my whole body and the memory became all too clear. I let it happen. Again. I couldn't stop him. Just like so many times before, when we were still married. When he'd get drunk off his ass and do this. I always let him apologize his way out of it, even though I knew he'd do it again. Until one day, three years ago, when I had enough. I thought it would stop and it did. Nothing happened until today. I thought it was okay. I thought he stopped. I thought it wouldn't happen anymore. The tears combined with the pain made it hard to think.

I don't know how much time I just laid on the ground like that. When I finally found the strength to get up and beat the pain, it was eleven thirty in the evening. I dragged myself to the chair and crashed on it. After another flood of tears, I looked around the apartment. It was a mess. The coffee table was broken from my landing and everything else seemed out of place as well. I just sat there. What else could I do?

I heard a knock on the door after a while. I thought I was just hearing things at first, but by the fourth knock I knew it was real. "Annie?" a known voice called my name. It was almost too familiar. I knew who it was. What I didn't know was, should I answer or not. He'd only freak out. I know he wouldn't judge me, because he never did that. But he wouldn't understand neither. He couldn't understand. "It's open," I decited respond with what was left of my voice. The door cracked open in a second. Then there was silence. A torturing silence that none of us wanted, but we couldn't find words to fill it up with. He dropped to his knees in front of me. Then he flooded me with questions. "Annie? Are you okay? What the hell happened? What's wrong?" he asked in a tone full of worry. I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even look at him. He put his hand on my knee and it was warm. I still felt. I was still alive. "Look at me," he said, trying to get a look at my face. He put two fingers under my chin and lifted my head up, just like he used to do. There are no words to describe the look he had on his face. He put his finger to my face and it hurt just a bit. A bruise must have been there. "What…Why…Who did this?" he hardly spoke in shock. I was beaten by tears once again. I buried my face in his chest and he just held me for a while. I needed to cry this out. After he told me it was going to be okay for the fifth millionth time, I explained everything to him, with only a few breakdowns in between. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," he muttered, but I heard him. "You have to… Go see a doctor or something." I looked in his eyes for the first time this evening. "Beej…Thank you," I whispered and he held me in another comforting hug as tears came running from my eyes once again.


	5. Making it go away

_**As if you were still mine.**_

_**V.**_

_Billie Joe's Point of View_

What do you say to a person who won't stop crying? How do you make it easier for that person? I have no idea. I was never good at handling other people's tears, let alone my own. But this isn't about me. She was still bawling her eyes out and there was nothing I could do but be here and keep telling her everything was going to be okay. But I don't think she believed me. I don't even think she cared. She just wanted to cry.

"Billie Joe… You don't have to… Stay here," she let out between sobs, after she calmed down enough to speak. "I _want_ to stay here," I assured her. "I don't want you to be alone tonight," I said, so she wouldn't get the wrong idea - or maybe the right one – leaving out the part about how much I enjoyed having her in my arms. I obviously didn't want to leave for more reasons than one. Her breathing evened out and I knew she was crying herself to sleep. I remembered to ask another question. "Annie?" I checked if she was sleeping already. "Yeah?" she responded, yawning. "What about your kid?"

She trembled for a moment, realizing what I meant. "He'd never hurt Bailey," she choked out with a weak voice. "How can you be so sure? After what happened tonight?" This time she remained calm – strangely calm. "This wasn't the first time, Billie Joe," she started and I found myself tightening my embrace around her. I couldn't even imagine what she must've been through. "He adores her. Five minutes before he beat the shit out of me, he went to check if she was asleep and kissed her goodnight. I saw it happen for 9 years, Beej. I'm pretty sure I know how it works with him," she explained, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Then we were both quiet for a while and she fell asleep. Here, on the couch, in my arms, with her head against my chest. I wondered if I should take her to bed. But I'm a selfish bastard, so I just listened to her breathing until about 3 in the morning, not falling asleep even for a second. Then I finally carried her to the other room, put her on the bed and covered her, then watched her sleep for a while, wondering what she was dreaming about. I walked back to the living room, crashed on the couch and stared at the ceiling, thinking about today. I felt like shit – no, _worse_ than shit – because of what _he_ did to her. Before I finally fell asleep, I decided to find that son of a bitch one day and painfully murder him.


	6. With you around

_**Running away.**_

_**VI.**_

I woke up from a dreamless sleep and my eyes jumped to the clock on the wall. Eleven fifteen. Not too bad. My mind briefly went across the night before, but I didn't want to think about it too much. I slowly became aware of myself and being awake. There was a familiar smell in the air. Syrup and… Pancakes? That brought back a memory from back when I was a kid and we used to have pancakes for breakfast every Sunday. But we stopped doing that after my father died. I shook the possibly painful thoughts away once again.

I slowly managed to get up and followed the smell to the kitchen. She was there, drowning everything in maple syrup – just the way I liked it. When she noticed me standing at the door, a smile widened across her face. "Hey, sleepyhead. I thought you wouldn't get off your ass at least until lunch. But technically, this is breakfast, so I guess you proved me wrong." I smirked, rubbing my forehead slowly against the door. "Good morning to you too, Annie." We talked and laughed until breakfast was finished, then we ate – well, mostly laughed, as usual, but never mind.

After breakfast I had to leave. We had a meeting with everyone involved on the album. It was almost finished and it was mostly going to be a boring talk, but supposingly I had to be there. "If you need anything… You know where to find me. I'm always here, if you want me around." She nodded, looking at the ground. The next second I caught myself sliding one arm around her neck, pulling her in to a hug. Probably not the best thing to do, but I felt like doing it. "Thanks, Beej," she whispered. "Anytime," I said, then made myself pull away and walked out the door. I decided to take the stairs down, because it gave me time to think. When I came to the hotel lobby, a man was standing at the reception, talking to the man who worked there. "I'm here to see my wife." I stopped and listened. The reception guy asked for a last name. "Rellington," the man answered and my hands shaked. When he turned my way I recognized him. He walked past me. I couldn't stop myself. "You're not going _anywhere_, you fucking psycho," I said, trying to keep quiet, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He stared at me for a while, until he recognized me. I let go of him, waiting for a response. "What the hell's your problem?" he asked in the same tone as I used before. "Don't think I'm clueless about last night. I'm not letting you do it to her again." He stared at me, clearly mocking everything about me from head to toes. "Oh, so now you're playing bodyguard here? Maybe you should've tried that fourteen years ago." I opened my mouth, only to shut it. I didn't know what to say."She cried herself to sleep every night for a year. No matter what I do, you'll always be the one that hurt her most," he spoke slowly, like he knew every word made me feel worse. "Still, she knows I'd never do anything like that to her again. And at least I'm not that weak of a man to hit a woman."

"I'm not here to talk to you. I came to see my wife," the bastard replied, smirking. "Ex-wife, son of a bitch," I was losing my tolerance for the self-confident smirk on his face. "The son of a bitch she was married to for nine years." Then I lost control. He knew that was the only thing I could be endlessly jealous of him for and he was using it. My hand turned in to a fist and I punched his face more than I've ever punched anything or anyone before. And I've done a lot of punching. He fell to the ground, revealing a nosebleed. I couldn't help but feel proud inside.

_**Ann's Point Of View**_

Billie Joe forgot his cell phone. I grabbed it from the table and took the elevator down, in hope of catching him somewhere. In the lobby, my heart stopped. I saw Ben picking himself off the floor with a bleeding nose and Billie Joe glaring at him, holding his hands in to fists. I was closer in less than a second. "What the hell h-happened?" I choked out in shock. "He was just… _Begging_ for it," Billie Joe answered quietly, breathing fast. I knew that if he tried to speak louder, he'd end up yelling.

A security guard walked up to us. "Everything alright, ma'am?" he asked me, pointing at Ben. "I think we can handle it, officer." The man cracked a smile and walked away. This is New York, after all – no one cared enough to ask twice. Billie Joe's breathing got faster again and I looked at him, knowing the expression on my face would let him know he needs to calm down. "Ben… What do you want?" I asked carefully. He stepped closer to me and took my hand, but I pulled it away. "Annie, I'm so sorry. I… I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing. I love you. I'm so sorry. Say you'll forgive me," he continued to ask too much from me. "You god damn son of a…" Billie started, rising his fist. I quickly stopped his hand before he'd make things worse. Moments later I was still holding back his arm and looking in his eyes until he relaxed a bit and released the tension by punching in to thin air. I turned my attention back to Ben.

"There's no 'I'm sorry' this time. Bring Bailey by tomorrow. Other than her, I want nothing to do with you. I think you should leave," I told him in a tone that showed no emotions, no matter how much it ripped my heart out. He nodded slowly and turned around. While he walked away, he stopped a couple of times, probably to say something, but he never did. I watched until he was out of my sight. I felt Billie Joe's hand on my shoulder. "Sorry 'bout that," he said sympathetically, but I could hear a smile in his voice. "Why'd you punch him?" I asked, still not turning towards him. "He just… Said something he shouldn't have, that's all," he stumbled. "Like what?" I continued to interrogate him, this time looking in his eyes. "I'll tell you some other time. I've gotta run now. I'm late, Mike and Tre are gonna kill me," he excused himself, already half-walking away. "Hey, Beej? Here's your phone," I remembered to add and he took it. "Thanks," he said with a bright smile, gave me a thumbs up and left.


	7. Knowing all and nothing

_Sorry guys, I know it took forever. Thanks to everyone who pushed me to finally do this. This one's kind of short. I promise the next one's gonna be longer. And more interesting, hopefully._

_**You change me all over again.**_

_**VII.**_

_**Billie Joe's Point Of View**_

I rushed down the street, got a cab and told the driver the address of the hotel. The second I was quiet, my phone rang. The screen said 'Adrienne'. I smiled at myself. "Hey, Adie," I greeted. "Hi, Billie. How're you doing?" she asked with the voice I haven't heard in a while. "Same old, I guess. To what do I ow the pleasure of this phone call?" I asked in a fake formal tone and I knew she was smiling, even though I didn't see her. "Well, um, there was something I wanted to tell you... Before you, you know, found out from anyone else. I just thought you should know..." she paused for a few moments. "Billie, I met someone. We've been seeing each other for a while and things are looking pretty good and... Well, I guess that's it. I just thought I should tell you." Her voice was shaky. She was nervous, I could tell. "Well, that's great, Adie. I'm happy for you," I answered, in hope of calming her down. "Thanks, Billie. I appreciate that. How about you? What've you been up to?"

What she meant with the question was obvious. "Nothing much," I answered truthfully. "I ran in to a friend from high school a few days ago." Most people would consider having a friendly relationship with someone you used to be married to as odd, but Adrienne and I had it good. We were able to keep our friendship afloat. "A high school sweetheart, I'm guessing?" she laughed. "Eh, um, well..," I stumbled, but decided to shut up in the end. "That says it all," she figured. I wondered if she was right. "Good luck with that, then." Yeah, I'm gonna need it. "Thanks, Adie. I guess I'll see you around?" "See you around, Billie." With that, we hang up. The cab had just stopped in front of the hotel and I paid the driver and hurried to our room. Mike was practically waiting for me at the door.

"You're late," he said with an irritated voice. I had a bad feeling about this conversation already. "I noticed," I replied in the same way. "Where the hell were you?" I rolled my eyes. "What are you Mike, my mother?" It seemed like he pretty much ignored that. "The record's gonna be ready in September," he said, prooving me right. "Great." Now the look of irritation on his face was replaced with worries. He knew I wouldn't usually use one-word replies about the record. "What happened, Billie?" he wanted to know next. And it would be lying if I said I didn't feel like telling someone about what happened. And not anyone. There aren't many people I'd feel comfortable talking to like that. One of those few people was Mike. So I might as well just tell him. I'd get drunk and tell him sooner or later, so why not just tell him when I'm sober? "I stayed with Annie last night." His eyes widened so much it looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "_No_, not like that," I denied the thoughts I could read off his face. _At least not yet. _What the hell am I thinking? My mind really sucks sometimes. "She... She's in some trouble," I explained. He demanded to know what it was, because, I quote '_She's his friend too_' and so I told him the whole story.

"Fuck," he let out once I finished. "That's messed up," he spoke his thoughts out loud. "Yeah. She cried. A _lot_. But she seemed better in the morning." Mike looked at me like he was observing something very closely. "Exactly how deep in to this are you, Billie? Just so I know if it's worth trying to pull you out of it." "How deep am I in to what? Don't psycho-analyze me again, you're a bassist, for fuck sake." He lifted his hands in the air. "Not psycho-analyzing. I'm just wondering what you feel here. And by 'here' I mean with Annie." Shit. Now I really couldn't look at him. What am I supposed to say? "I don't know," I ended up telling the truth. "I guess we're friends. Or maybe not. Fuck it, I have no idea." With that said, I looked at him. What he had on his face seemed like a smile. "Don't look at me like you know something I don't, damn it," but he only smiled more. "And let me guess - you're planning to call her tonight?" he asked, like he knew he was right. "Well, I was going to. But I might not." He laughed out loud this time. "Of course you're gonna call her. You're so goddamn predictable, Billie Joe."


	8. Like the beginning of something

_Yeah, I know, I suck for not updating. Sorry?_

_**And if you ask I'll let you go.**_

_**VIII.**_

Yeah, I called her, as much as I hated proving Mike right. We're having dinner tonight. We're meeting at a restaurant (what's it called again?) at 8. I feel like such a fifteen-year-old. Is that a bad thing?

"So, princess, what are you going to wear for your big date tonight?" Tre said while peaking in my room. "A, not a date. B, I'm wearing whatever, C, get out of my room." The teenager inside me is just raging today. "Oh, come on, of course it's a date. If it wasn't, you wouldn't have spent the past 2 hours picking your clothes out." I shot an angry glare at him. "It's only been half an hour," I let out in shock. Well, maybe a couple more minutes. "Nervous?" I heard Mike's voice from the same direction. "Would you two idiots please get the fuck out of my room?" I said, half in joke and half seriously, throwing a t-shirt their way. "That's totally a yes," I could hear the smile in my so-called best friend's voice. They closed the door behind them before I could throw any other - possibly sharp - objects at them. I took a deep breath. "Shit," I muttered to myself when I looked around the room and saw the state it was in. Clothes lying everywhere. I don't just feel like a fifteen year old. Worse. I feel like a fifteen year old _girl_. Classic. _Oh fuck it, she knows me. She knows I don't dress up. Does she? Or maybe she expects me to dress up. Why the hell would she... Okay, I'm being a pain in my own ass_. I'm not dressing up to go to some pretty much average place. She never really liked fancy clothes and stuff. _Yeah, but that was fourteen years ago, dumbass_.

I really do hate my mind sometimes.

A good hour later (I ended up needing only half an hour to get dressed, after deciding to wear the most normal thing ever) I was ready to go. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and plain black Chuck Taylors. I don't think I'll ever stop wearing those. And if this goes bad, fuck it. It's not like it's never happened before. I don't care.

_Who am I kidding?_

"Bye," I said to Tre and Mike as I was heading towards the door. "Should we wait up or are you feeling lucky tonight?" Tre yelled from the kitchen just before I was out. "Bite me," I muttered, but I'm pretty sure they heard.

I got a cab in seconds, which has to be some sort of miracle on a Friday night in New York City. While driving off in the streets, lighted by countless neon lights, I realized just how nervous I actually was. _'What if something goes wrong? What if it turns out to be a horrible night? What if I find one of my many infamous ways to fuck up?' _my mind wouldn't stop asking. Finally, I arrived at the place. It actually looked fun. I recognized The Ramones being blasted inside, as soon as I stepped through the door. _She chose well_, I thought to myself and smiled. She came in the next second.

She was wearing a red tank top that had something about vodka written on it, Chucks (a lot like my own), and the tightest ripped jeans I have seen in my life. Her black hair came down over her shoulders. I lost the gift of speech for a moment. My mind was being as loud as all the people in the room, if not louder. _Fucking perfect._


End file.
